


Resist You

by Giggi1



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sex Magic, Sex Pollen, established sybil/sam, set somewhere between Jingo and The Fifth Elephant, the mystery of whodunnit never gets resolved sorry friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 06:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11753778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giggi1/pseuds/Giggi1
Summary: Lord Vetinari and Commander Vimes are mysteriously kidnapped. In escaping, they accidentally activate a magic spell which might be better suited for a bedroom than a daring escape.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Q is for Quirmian Love Potion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7701931) by [scarletmanuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka). 



> I got this idea when reading "Q is for Quirmian Love Potion", so I am citing that work as inspiration. I hope I am using this feature correctly! In any case, thank you scarletmanuka for inspiring me with your writing!
> 
> Special thanks also go out to L3rron, who is the best beta-reader I could wish for. You're the best!

 

Sam opened his eyes and nothing changed. He blinked a few times. Still only darkness.

Just a moment ago, he’d been in the Oblong Office, staring at a spot on the wall while giving a report on the goings-on in the city. Now, he couldn’t see, but the air felt different. Was he somewhere else? He sat up. Next to him, he could feel even breathing in the still air.

“Commander?”

Ah, so the Patrician was here, too, wherever it was.

“Sir.”

“I seem to be unable to see, I do hope that that is due to darkness." There was a rustling of cloth. "Do you know where we are, Commander?”

“No idea, sir, can’t see a thing either. Do you happen to have a secret magic portal installed in your office?”

“Not to my knowledge, no.”

Vimes started to feel around the room, wondering if the palace had collapsed and they had died without noticing. It all seemed solid enough, though, and exploring the room confirmed his suspicions: they were definitely not in the Oblong Office.

The room seemed to be completely bare. No furniture, no carpet, no windows... and no door. Which meant that their blindness was probably just because no light could enter the room. But what kind of room had no door?  
He shared this finding with Vetinari, who he could just imagine having taken on a relaxed position, sitting on the floor. Probably with his hands crossed behind his head[1].

“We were almost certainly brought here by magic,” Vetinari’s voice came out of the darkness. “And since we seem to be mostly in one piece, this was no accident. Conceivably, someone capable of magic would not need a door to enter a room. And it does make getting out rather a bit more challenging, does it not?”

It made sense. They had no wounds, had not been knocked on the head, and yet, had suddenly found themselves somewhere else. Perhaps no time had elapsed in between, and they had simply been, somehow, instantaneously transported…

“By magic, huh? But why? Why magic us here, who would do that?”

His questions were met with silence. Vimes wondered if Vetinari knew the answers. But if he was right and they had been somehow teleported here – which seemed more and more likely – then the wizards were somehow to blame for this. Vimes immediately began contemplating possible ways of arresting a wizard.

The charges were clear: abduction, false imprisonment, conspiracy to cause an affray[2], and willfully trapping an honest citizen in a confined space with a deadly creature, i.e. the Patrician.

But it did not do to back a wizard into a corner. You never knew what he might do, so arresting one might prove a challenge.

“There has to be a way out,” he mumbled, tapping the walls. “What if magic gets blocked, or whatever it does? How does this room even get air? A wizard would leave himself a way out...” he thought of the foresight of your typical wizard and groaned inwardly. “Or maybe he wouldn’t.”

“I shall speak to Archchancellor Ridcully,” the Patrician said. “The wizards at Unseen University should have ways to trace unlicensed magic. I would be exceedingly interested in meeting the owner of this fascinating accommodation.”

_You and me both_ , Vimes thought.

“It’d be my pleasure to arrest whoever they find, sir. But how will we get out of here to do that? This bloody prison doesn’t even have a door!” He almost shouted the last part, and hit the wall in frustration.

The mortar crumbled, and suddenly Vimes was distracted from the pain in his hand by an imperceptible hint of light, only visible because of the absolute darkness. He grabbed at the wall and dug out bits of plaster.

It took a while, but finally, the glow became more than a hint, and strange, glowing symbols became visible. In their light, Vimes could see that the wall he had just demolished seemed to be newer than the bits around it. He turned to see the rest of the room in this new glow. It really was bare, but the walls and floor were faded in places, as though there had once been furniture which had been removed. And there was the Patrician, standing a few feet from Vimes, staring at the symbols. Vimes hadn’t heard him get up.

“This isn’t a prison cell,” Vimes said, after having recovered from startling. “Look, until recently, there was a big closet there, and over here, that was probably a bed.” He pointed to the parts of the room where the walls and floor were less faded.  “Whoever did this might be new to the whole kidnapping thing.”  
_But smart enough to remove all personal touches before getting us here_ , he added to himself.

Looking oddly smug, the Patrician wordlessly pointed at the ceiling. Vimes looked up, and let out a surprised breath. A trapdoor in the ceiling! The only part of the room they couldn’t explore by touch. He grinned. “They didn’t expect us to find these glowing things! They even put new plaster over them so we wouldn’t be able to see the way out!”

“I rather suspect they weren’t expecting anyone to hit the wall with such ferocity.” Vetinari sounded rather pleased, almost proud.

Vimes turned back to the runes for a moment. He wanted to memorize them, in case they were helpful in finding whoever did this. What were they for? Why were they here? They looked puzzling, the light they gave off subtly shifted colours. He touched one carefully. It changed to a deep red. Fascinated, he reached out again, just as Vetinari called out, “Commander, wait!”

It was too late. If Vimes had been a wizard, he’d have seen an octarine flash. As it was, the deep red of the symbol briefly covered all the walls, the floor, and the ceiling, then it was gone. The runes seemed fainter than before.

Vetinari sighed. “I rather wish you had not done that,” He said. “Vimes, since we were brought here by magic, and there were strange glowing symbols on the wall, I would have thought it obvious to assume that these might be magic runes. As neither of us have studied the arcane arts, I would have preferred not to have activated them.”

_Damn_. Vimes looked around the room. There wasn’t anything different. No monsters had appeared, no magic portals opened. “Nothing happened, though.” Or had it? Was he feeling a bit dizzy, or was that his imagination, expecting something to have happened? And when did it get so hot in here?

“Nothing we can see. Who knows what the purpose of this room was before it started being used as an impromptu dungeon? Still, it can’t be helped now, we can but hope.” Patrician looked puzzled for a moment, almost distracted. He blinked slowly.

“Can you pick a lock, Commander?”

“I am from the Shades, sir.” Looking at Vetinari, something seemed odd, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He took a step towards him. “How do you expect me to reach it, though?”

The Patrician’s voice was quiet. “Perhaps a solution for that can be found…” His eyes never left Vimes as he also stepped forward. He was standing so close to Sam they were almost touching. Vimes felt as though his senses were somehow heightened, he could feel the ripples in the stale air, smell the man in front of him… Gods, it really was very warm here, wasn’t it?

Lord Vetinari continued, sounding as though paying no attention to his own words, “I could lift you up so that it is possible for you to reach the ceiling, Commander.”

Sam was finding it difficult to concentrate on the conversation. He was wondering why, in the past, he had chosen to look at a spot on the wall instead of the face that was so close to his right now. The sharp eyebrows, the neat beard, the piercing eyes…

“You are lighter than me. I should probably be lifting you up,” he murmured, absent-mindedly extending his arm to bridge the short distance between them. His fingers brushed against the Patrician’s robes, when he suddenly snatched his hand back. His carefully maintained self-preservation instincts were finally strong enough to break the trance he was in – you did not touch the Patrician unbidden if you wanted to keep your arm. Disoriented, he took a small step back, trying to clear his head.

“Sir?” he said, carefully not to look at the Patrician.

“Commander.” Vetinari’s reply was soft.

“Sir, I think...” _oh, gods..._ “I think those runes did do... something...”

“Hmm, yes, I am inclined to agree...” he seemed to make an effort of regaining his self-control.  
“How very inconvenient.” There was a thoughtful pause. “Though I daresay it could have been worse.”

Vimes let out a humourless laugh while trying to push away speculations of what those lips would feel like on his, what that body would feel like under his hands...  
“I’m not sure it could!”

“Really now, Vimes. We could have perished in a magical explosions, or have summoned creatures from the Dungeon Dimensions. This, while being...” he looked at Vimes, and for a moment, seemed to almost take a step, before catching himself, “awkward, perhaps, and somewhat troublesome, is more survivable than we could have hoped for.”

Vimes had made the mistake of looking at Vetinari’s face again, and was now finding it impossible to look away.  

The Patrician continued speaking. “Magic does tend to wear off, though from how it has progressed so far, perhaps it is still getting stronger... Might I suggest we leave as soon as possible?”

Through his feelings of alarm at the current situation, and… other things he was feeling, Vimes was very much in favour of this suggestion.

“Yeah, let’s go. You’re not lifting me, though.”

Lord Vetinari raised an eyebrow and produced, from somewhere in his robes, a lock pick. He looked at Vimes expectantly.

Cursing inwardly, Vimes positioned himself underneath the trapdoor to give Vetinari a leg-up. Vetinari stepped on his crossed hands, touching his shoulder for balance before gracefully straightening up and touched the ceiling to steady himself.

The brief touch on his shoulder, even through layers of clothes, sent electric signals outwards. It also didn’t help that Vimes’s face was now so close to Vetinari’s robes and, oh gods, the smell… Like books and steel and mostly just Vetinari, somehow so intoxicating.

The weight on his hands was surprisingly steady while the Patrician worked. Vimes watched his deft, long fingers move efficiently as he picked the lock. Expertly of course, the infuriating, omnicompetent, astute bastard. Always in control of every situation, wasn’t he, even those he couldn’t possibly control. _Especially_ those.

Sam had often wanted to punch him.

Sam had sometimes wanted to kiss him.

He longed to take away his walls, make him lose his composure, see if-

There was a click. Vimes felt the weight leave his hands as Vetinari pulled himself up, opening the trapdoor in the process.

After a few seconds, two hands appeared from the hole in the ceiling.  
Vimes trusted in Vetinari’s ability to adequately judge how much weight this would put on him, and to have secured himself accordingly.

He took a bit of a run-up and jumped.

Somehow, he managed to grasp the Patrician’s hands. Vetinari returned his grip surprisingly tightly, giving Vimes the reassuring feeling that he would not let him go, wouldn’t let him fall.

He was pulled up until he could climb through the trapdoor himself, at which point Vetinari let go of him. Vimes instantly missed the touch of his hands.

 

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

 

Standing in the dusty storeroom the trapdoor lead to, the Patrician watched Vimes closely as he got up. The Commander’s pupils were huge, and Lord Vetinari knew that his must look similar at the moment. He also knew that the effects of the magic were still increasing, and they were getting to him, eating away at his meticulously maintained control.

Vimes was returning his stare. The Patrician was not in the habit of breaking eye-contact with anyone, knowing that the person faced with his gaze would do that soon enough.  
Vimes didn’t.

Vimes, who wouldn’t back down from anyone, with his fierce convictions, and his righteous anger, and his rough stubble.

Lord Vetinari swallowed.  
He was finding it unusually difficult to concentrate. He wondered if the room actually was this hot or if that was an effect of the magic.

Vimes was still just standing there, watching him. Trancelike, Vetinari reached out and brushed Vimes’s cheek with his fingers, mesmerized by the sensation of Vimes’s skin against his fingertips. Vimes shivered slightly.

Suddenly, determined hands grabbed the Patrician’s robes, and then Vimes’s lips were on his, soft and hungry and fierce. Before he knew it, Vetinari was kissing back, and it felt quite like and yet unlike he had-… like one would imagine it, in purely hypothetical considerations.

He ran a hand through Vimes hair, pulling him closer. Vimes was holding on to his robes, exploring his mouth with his tongue. Kissing him felt like the perfect thing, the only thing to do right now. But, somewhere in the back of his head, there was still reason and logic and rational thought, and it was trying to get his attention.

Vimes was under a spell. He was practically drugged. He would not normally want this, he did not really want this. The magic would wear off, and then-

Vimes did not want this.

Vetinari froze. He broke the kiss.

Stepping away from him was extraordinarily difficult. It went against all his current instincts. He reluctantly had to admire the power of the wizard who had created this spell.

The regrettable lack of contact seemed to help Vimes to find himself again. He looked as his hands in confusion, then his eyes went wide as he looked up. Vetinari was faintly amused to see him pat his chest and his stomach, as though afraid that the Patrician might have stabbed him without him noticing. He was stammering apologies.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what came over me… Oh, gods… Usually never like this, damn, would never… What have I done, bloody hell… Sir, I’m…”

The Patrician held up his hand.

“Please, do not worry about it, Commander. It is astoundingly difficult to fight this magic. In fact, I would say it is bordering on the impossible. I must say, my willpower is not often… tested like this.”

Lord Vetinari was aware that his level of self-control went well beyond that of the vast majority of people. He had spent his life training himself to always be in control, and to control a situation, it was first necessary to control oneself.

“Sir,” Vimes said. It was rather endearing to see him so flustered. Vetinari felt an overwhelming urge to silence his mortified mumblings with a kiss, but he restrained the impulse, pushed it away.

Vimes wouldn’t meet his eyes. “We need to get out of here,” he said. “Where are we, anyway?”

“I believe it is time to determine that,” Vetinari said, and noiselessly walked over to the door. It was unlocked, but had obviously not been opened for quite some time. It was stuck.

The Patrician stepped aside to let Vimes give it an encouraging nudge[3] with his shoulder. It really was quite attractive. Vetinari had to stop himself from reaching out to him again. This was not going to be easy.

 

Vimes went out into the corridor ahead of him. The Patrician followed, his slight limp barely perceptible[4].

There were windows, showing a grey sky. Vimes had seen them too, and shot Vetinari a look. He did not have to say out loud that this meant they were still in Ankh-Morpork. That smoky, dirty air was unmistakable.

After a slightly too long eye-contact, Vimes quietly snuck up to a corner, peeking around it.

Suddenly, he held out his arm as a signal to stop. The Patrician, having followed more closely than he usually might have, somewhat walked into Vimes’s unexpectedly extended arm. The touch against his chest sent strange tingles outwards.

The Commander looked just as surprised at the contact, and reluctant to break it. Painstakingly slowly, he moved his arm across Vetinari’s robes. All of Vetinari’s senses screamed at him to capture Vimes wrist, stop him from removing his hand, and kiss him, and hold him close…

And then the touch was gone. Vetinari blinked. Vimes motioned for him to hide, and a moment later, they were both standing in a shadowed alcove. The Patrician stood perfectly still. He knew how to vanish. But Vimes, too, had a talent for lurking in the shadows unseen.

Two men turned around the corner, slowly patrolling the hallway. The way they walked, it was definitely patrolling. Lord Vetinari noted in passing that neither of them seemed to have mastered Commander Vimes’s preferred technique of _proceeding_. They would be quite tired after a few hours.

While they waited for the men to walk past, he noticed Vimes squinting at him. The man did pay attention to the shadows – he could still see him. Somehow, that was a comforting thought.

Vimes carefully reached out a hand, as if to make sure what he saw was real. The Patrician watched in fascination as hesitant fingers reached his arm, touching him softly. Not wanting the touch to stop, Vetinari took Vimes’s hand. Vimes was standing very still, but Vetinari could feel his rapid heartbeat.

It was difficult to remain motionless, which Vimes so close, _right there_ …

Finally, the corridor was empty once again.

Somehow still holding hands, they quietly advanced past the corner. There were several rooms adjacent to the hall, but most notably, there was a balcony door. Vetinari gestured towards it.

 

The cool evening air out here helped clear his head a little. Vimes was looking down to the pavement doubtfully – they were on the highest floor.

“When they notice we’re gone, they’ll be looking for us,” he said.

“I am counting on it. Perhaps some more observant citizens will be able to report to me who was doing the searching.”

“Where do we go until then, though? I don’t know about you, but I would rather avoid going to a Watch house before this… magic has worn off. And the palace is…” he waved his hand vaguely. “All the way across the river. Plenty of opportunities for these people to find us again.”

“Ah, yes, I would prefer to carry out this confrontation in the morning.” He was momentarily distracted by the captivating way the setting sun illuminated Vimes’s face.

“Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any suggestion where we could go? I do know some places in the gutters that are pretty well hidden, if-“

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. Fortunately, I do have a number of safe places in this city. Places even the Watch is not aware of.”

Vimes frowned. “We need to know about these things. You can’t bloody keep things like that -,“ he faltered. Vetinari had experimentally thrown his hair back, in the way he had observed people do it in certain… situations. He always had been good at perfectly imitating observed behaviour.

“can’t keep… bloody secret…” Vimes was stammering distractedly. Delighted with his success, Vetinari leaned against the railing and ran his hand through his hair.

The Commander evidently gave up trying to rant in the face of these unfair tactics, and was now just standing there, slightly stunned. Vetinari grinned triumphantly.

“It is just over there, Commander, if you would be so good as to follow me.”

“If you don’t stop being so bloody annoying, you’re gonna get punched,” Vimes muttered under his breath.

Vetinari quietly replied something that sounded suspiciously like “Promises, promises.”

Light as a cat, he scaled the wall of the building to reach the roof. There, he waited for Vimes to pull himself up, mentally planning the easiest route. Luckily, the roofs were close together here, and the safehouse wasn’t far. He did not want to have to do climbing acrobatics in his current state[5].

He led the way across the rooftops. At one point, there was a commotion in the streets behind them. Clearly, their absence had been discovered, and the streets around the residence were being searched. The Patrician did not have to look at Vimes to know that he was aware of this, too. He did it anyway.[6]

Not long afterwards, they reached their destination. A well-known secret ladder, used by thieves and by clandestine nightly visitors alike[7], lead down to the streets. Two houses further along, there was a small, decrepit building. This was where Vetinari was headed.

The door was unbarred, as it always was. It didn’t even have a lock. The wind was whistling through the broken windows of the abandoned building, somehow feeling stronger in here than the gentle breeze outside.

Vimes closed the door, looking sceptical.

“This is where you’re planning to hide out the night, sir?”

“They are still searching for us. Personally, I would prefer to address this situation after the effects of certain magic runes have abated.”

“Sure, but… is it safe here?”

Vetinari smiled. “There are more safety precautions than are immediately apparent,-”

He was interrupted. “Don’t tell me.” Vimes walked across the dirty floor to one of the unfurnished walls. “It’s a secret passage, isn’t it? Let me find it.”

He began carefully knocking on the wall. Vetinari wondered if he was trying to distract himself from the influence of the magic. He himself was finding it difficult to ignore Vimes’s dishevelled hair, his determined stance in front of the completely wrong bit of wall. His mind kept supplying wholly inappropriate ideas.

Vimes hesitated, and walked around the room. Something seemed to catch his eye. The three books on the shelf. Of course, one of them had to be a secret mechanism that you pulled to reveal a hidden door. Everyone knew that. Which was why the Patrician had made sure they were put far away from the actual entrance, next to other classics such as statues whose heads might bend back to reveal a lever, or a conspicuous coat-hook.

Vimes took a step towards that part of the room, and stopped. His eyes narrowed. He turned around and walked to the opposite wall.

Commander Vimes was certainly observant. A quick thinker as well, and strikingly intelligent, though he did not consider himself to be. It was impressive to see him so quickly spot the misdirection that had fooled so many, and awfully attractive. He really was an arresting fellow, that Sam Vimes.

This was nothing new, but the spell from those runes was making it far more difficult to push these thoughts aside. Vetinari sighed and told himself that he only had to keep control over this magic influence for a few more hours. Spells seldom lasted longer. It was not as simple as usual to control his thoughts, though.

A soft creaking noise indicated that Vimes had found the correct brick to press. A narrow staircase was revealed behind the panelling.

Vetinari nodded at him approvingly, which left Vimes looking rather flustered. This was, in the Patricians view, a Good Thing, and he resolved to do it more often.

They both descended the stairs, closing the hidden door behind them.

 

 

 

Footnotes:

[1] He couldn’t see him, but, damn it, he just _knew_ it.

[2] Because when Vimes got out of here, there _would_ be an affray

[3] Read: forceful shove, complete with run-up

[4] Most days, his cane was just for show anyway.

[5] At the moment, even walking was fraught with… unusual difficulties.

[6] Looking at Vimes was quite enjoyable.

[7] Though not by assassins, who preferred less mundane climbing routes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vetinari's POV is challenging to write, so I am very glad I can blame the magic runes for any instances where he may come across as a little OOC ;)


	2. Chapter 2

The hidden cellar was nicely furnished. There was a clean floor with a carpet, a bed, a table, some buckets of water, and a little durable food. Several books to pass the time, because the Patrician held the view that you should always strive to learn new things when the opportunity presented itself.

“We should…” Vimes turned to look at him and Vetinari swallowed. Now they were out of danger and had no immediate goal, it was increasingly difficult to distract himself from… this. “We should try to sleep. Or read, perhaps, if you are not tired. It is, in the circumstances, somewhat unfortunate that we have share such close quarters under the influence of enchantment, but it seems we have little alternative.”

He kept his face as neutral as he could[8], while a hundred images assaulted his mind, each more alluring than the last. Images of him and Vimes, both wearing rather fewer clothes and… gods, this magic truly was testing his rigorous self-control…

He suddenly realised how close he was standing to Vimes. Had he walked closer without meaning to? That was just unacceptable, though now it was difficult to turn away. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

A moment later, he was slammed against a wall and Vimes was kissing him, and it felt so right, it felt like air to a drowning man, and he wanted nothing more than to continue this. He buried his hand in Vimes’s hair and lifted his chin as Vimes kissed him along his throat.

Why should he fight this, when Vimes obviously also wanted it, they both wanted this, why shouldn’t they just…

But Vimes wasn’t choosing this. Vimes was under a spell, same as him. Even Vetinari found it difficult to fight it, and Vimes, while impressively stubborn and strong-willed – he bit his lips at the thought – did not have his self-control.

Vimes was starting to open his robes.

“Vimes. You are,” his breath hitched, “We are drugged.”

“Shut up,” Vimes said. The Commander’s touches on his chest as he fought with the robes elicited delightful sensations in Vetinari’s entire body. Resisting had been difficult enough without Vimes touching him… He didn’t know if he was still able to step away.

“You are making this exceedingly hard, you know,” he murmured, trying to regain his focus under Vimes’s inordinately distracting actions.

“Oh I am, am I?” Vimes grinned mischievously and let a hand wander down to his hips and-  
“Well that seems to be undeniably true, eh?”

Vetinari had to use all his concentration to stay perfectly still, not moving a muscle, when all his impulses were shouting at him to move his hips, it would be so easy, it would be so good…

“That… was not what I…”

Thinking was uncommonly difficult.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he could not do this to Vimes. After the effects wore off, the Commander would be horrified. Vimes had, in the past, repeatedly stated his dislike of the Patrician. And even if he hadn’t meant it[9], it did seem like an indication that he would not normally want to have sex with Vetinari.

If he didn’t stop Vimes, stop this, Vimes would never forgive him.

Vetinari took a few deep breaths and, in one of the most challenging feats of willpower of his life, gently placed a hand against Vimes’s chest and pushed him away.

“No, Commander,” he said quietly, “We both are under a spell. We can’t, not now.”

Vimes was glowering at him intensely, the same way he stared down suspects who stood in between him and solving a crime, and gods help them if they were not planning on cooperating with the Commander of the Watch.  
It was exceedingly arousing to be fixed by that stare, like Vimes was a force of nature, implacable and stubborn and utterly refusing to follow orders.

When Vimes spoke, it was in a low voice.

“Sir, the things I want to do to you…”

Vetinari’s breath hitched.

Vimes leaned forward slightly, Vetinari’s hand still against his chest.  
“Do you want me to?”

“Vimes, I-“

_“Do you?”_

_Yes. More than anything, yes._

He couldn’t say it, he must not, gods, the way Vimes had said that, all the possibilities,-

Vimes used his moment of distraction to push past his arm and grab him, and without a warning he lifted Vetinari off his feet and was carrying him, bridal-style. Vetinari held on to Vimes in surprise.

He could stop Vimes, fight him, incapacitate him, but he did not want to. Oh, how he did not want to. Being carried in this possessive way by this strong, angry, stubborn man was inordinately enjoyable. He wanted more, he wanted Vimes to take him and hold him and touch him. His head was spinning, and thinking was becoming more and more impossible as Vimes kissed him, before setting him down on the bed.

Vimes sat across his legs, straddling him, effectively holding him in place. His smirk promised so many things.

“How are you so damn attractive, you bastard,” Vimes said, and Vetinari couldn’t help grinning. He covered his mouth with his hand, but Vimes leaned forward and kissed it, and suddenly Vetinari found his hand to be in a very inopportune position in space. He removed it, and Vimes’s lips met his in a hungry kiss.

The Commander then pushed him back, shoving his shoulders against the mattress, assertively holding him in place while covering his neck and collarbone in kisses. The Patrician moaned and arched his hips. Vimes obviously knew what he wanted and knew what he was doing, and Vetinari _wanted_ him, to give Vimes anything, everything. Wanted him to _take_ it.

Vimes finally managed to remove the robes and his fingers were exploring Vetinari’s bare skin, every touch electrifying. His last bit of control was slipping, and when Vimes’s hand reached his pants and found his erection, all Vetinari could do was gasp, “Yes, oh, _yes_!”

 

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

 

With a bit of help from the man lying beneath him, Vimes hastily removed the rest of their clothes, throwing them carelessly on the floor. Lord Vetinari was running his elegant hands across his chest, exploring his skin. Vimes shuddered. He couldn’t think very clearly, but he knew that he needed Vetinari, desperately needed him, and now, finally, he was touching him.

The Patrician looked almost vulnerable. He seemed so thin without his robes, and yet it was clearly apparent from his body that everything about this man was quick and deadly. Right now, however, Vetinari’s hair had come loose and his usual impassive mask was gone. Stray strands of hair were falling across his face. When Vimes touched his dick, he moaned, desperately clutching at the sheets. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen. The terrifying tyrant of Ankh-Morpork, becoming undone under his hands.

He leaned down and kissed him again, on the mouth, on the jaw, feeling his beard under his lips. He moved down, kissing and licking Vetinari’s chest, slowly at first, then faster, more firmly, exploring his body. Vetinari’s hands held on to his shoulders, holding him close, and the Patrician started moving his hips slightly, obviously trying to get some friction. He whimpered softly.

“Commander… Could you…?”

Vimes reached between them, causing a lovely gasp from the Patrician as he took his cock into his hand, stroking it in a steady rhythm. Vetinari matched his movements with his hips, which was somehow hotter than it had any right to be, the way Vetinari was following his lead. Using his other hand to steady himself against the mattress, Vimes continued his exploration of the Patrician’s chest. He took one of Vetinari’s nipples in his mouth and sucked it, eliciting another delightful moan. Emboldened, Vimes dared bite it carefully.

Vetinari let out a sharp cry, his fingernails digging into Vimes’s back.

Vimes stopped and looked up worriedly. Had he hurt him?  
Vetinari moved his hips insistently as Sam’s movements had ceased. His breathing was quick. He gasped, “Could you- could you do that again?”

Vimes was only too happy to oblige.

Lord Vetinari cried out again, in pain and ecstasy. His fingernails were creating long scratches on Vimes’s back. Vimes moaned, and sat back to take his own achingly hard cock in his other hand. Before he could start stroking himself, though, there was another hand on his, and Vetinari was taking hold of him. Sam started moving his hips along with his hand, gasping as the Patrician matched his rhythm.

Vimes gradually sped up his movements. At some point, he noticed that Vetinari seemed to be whispering something, but he couldn’t hear what it was. He leaned forward.

It was his name, his name falling in gasps from the Patrician’s lips, whispered over and over again. Vimes moaned, his hips bucking involuntarily. Vetinari, ever observant even in this state, moved his thumb tantalizingly across his slit, while keeping that rhythm with his other fingers.

Vimes gasped and twitched, before coming with a cry. He could feel Vetinari reacting to his moans and to the contraction of his hand as he came, and then Vetinari was coming too.

Vimes collapsed next to Vetinari, barely conscious, feeling as though the world around him were wrapped in soft cotton wool.

 

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

 

The dawn was touching the city of Ankh-Morpork. The two most powerful men of the city were slumbering in a forgotten cellar. As of yet, their absence had not been remarked upon by the city.

 

When Lord Vetinari woke up, he found Vimes sleeping next to him. A moment later, it all came back. It felt like a dream now. He was painfully aware that it was not.

He remembered what had happened. How he had failed.

That was not something that he had to deal with very often.

Vimes had been under the influence of magic, and Vetinari had had sex with him. He had _used_ him. He should have been able to resist - he was, after all, Havelock Vetinari. He could have simply incapacitated Vimes, if it came to that, keep him safe until the effect wore off.

He hadn’t been in control enough, but more than that, he had let himself give in to temptation, to a Vimes who had seemed so willing, so eager, even though Vetinari had _known_ it wasn’t real. Perhaps he would have been able to fight this, spare Vimes, if it had not been for his own selfish wishes, his own desires.

He pulled his thoughts together. Lamenting what was already past would not help Vimes now.

He had to leave. It seemed unlikely that Vimes would want to see him first thing in the morning, after waking up and realising what they did, and what Vimes most certainly now found horrifying. After how Vetinari had betrayed Vimes, had taken advantage of his altered mental state.  
After all that had happened.

He picked up his clothes and left soundlessly, hoping that Vimes might think it had all been a dream.  
Ah, hope. The greatest of all gifts, was it not?

 

When Commander Vimes woke up, he was alone. Something seemed off. This wasn’t his bed. Confused, he sat up, the movement causing a short pain on the skin of his back.

Slowly, memories began emerging in his mind. Wait, this wasn’t right. Surely, that hadn’t… they hadn’t… he must have dreamt-

Then, he remembered the room. The runes. Oh, gods. Could it be true?  
He looked around the room and groaned, hiding his face in his hands. The place was evoking more and more images from last night. The clothes on the floor. The wall where he had pushed-

Where was Vetinari?

Suddenly, another memory came into focus.  
When they had entered this cellar, and Vetinari had looked at him with those hungry eyes, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from kissing him…  
Vetinari had pushed him away. Had said no.  
And he had ignored it.

Surely, he could have stopped Vimes? He was an assassin. He was outstandingly skilled in close combat, probably had a robe full of knives, too.

But Vetinari had been hit by the magic as well, hadn’t he? Otherwise, he’d never-

Vimes remembered him saying, before, that it was bordering on impossible to resist this spell. And the Patrician had obviously tried to resist, fought the urge imposed by the magic, tried to not let the effects result in actions. He’d made a damn good job of it, too. Vimes remembered the feeling. He couldn’t imagine the willpower necessary to fight _that_. He’d been _winning_ against the spell. Until, of course, Vimes had made that impossible by his actions, had taken the ability to control himself, had taken the ability to _refuse_ from him.

Vetinari had seemed to enjoy himself, oh yes, and probably had, at the time – that was what that spell did. But he hadn’t wanted… hadn’t wanted… Oh gods, what had he done? He’d taken away any sort of agency from the man, when Vetinari had somehow managed to stay in control, say no, fight the magic, Vimes’s reaction had been – he’d forcibly picked him up and carried him to the bed.

No wonder Vetinari had left quietly. Of _course_ he wanted to be alone after what had happened, and certainly not around _him_!

The Patrician always projected such an air of dignity, distance, unapproachability – to have all this, have all his walls taken from him in this way, it was wrong, it had to be awful for someone who never even let people get close to him. It just seemed to go against who he was.

Unbidden, an image appeared before Vimes’s inner eye, of Vetinari, naked, gasping, eager. It was alluring, and Vimes immediately felt guilty for thinking that.

The worst thing was that Vetinari would probably forgive him, say the same thing he had when Sam had first kissed him: That he had been under a spell, that he could not have resisted.  
The fact that Vimes was still alive this morning was evidence enough that Vetinari didn’t blame him.

But the fact that Vimes had been under a spell when he had forcibly ignored Vetinari’s boundaries - well. It might be an excuse for Vimes, but it didn’t make it any better for Vetinari, now did it?

Gods, would he ever feel comfortable around Vimes again?

He clenched his fist. _Bloody magic_. When he got his hands on the kidnapper who had caused all this…

 

When he left, he immediately headed for Pseudopolis Yard. He took some of his most trusted Watchmen aside and told them to look for evidences of magical kidnappings.

“Who would a wizard want to kidnap?” Carrot asked.

“The Patrician, apparently. And, possibly, me, though that might have been just because we were in the same room.” A different room appeared before his inner eye, but he pushed the image away.

Tell the Watch we’re looking for someone with access to magic who kidnapped me, and sent out search teams to find me yesterday. We don’t want talk to get around that someone managed to kidnap the Patrician, do we? Vetinari will talk to the wizards so you’ll have to go to the palace and make sure we’re up to date with what’s happening there.”

Carrot looked slightly puzzled for a moment, but saluted smartly and left to talk to the rest of the Watch. Vimes sighed. He knew why he was confused. Usually, it was Vimes who went to the palace, but right now, he would not go there without being summoned. When… If Vetinari wanted to see him, he’d let him know. For now, he’d have to get someone else to bring the reports.

 

That day, he patrolled the city for a long time. He’d have liked to bury himself in the magic kidnapping case, but so far, there was nothing. The house had been searched, but it was empty now, and nobody seemed to know who it had belonged to. Well, Vetinari probably knew, but Vimes would have to wait for Carrot to report to him. Bloody magic, you needed a wizard to find it.

And so, he walked.

Whenever he turned his body, his skin pulled at the scratches on his back and he remembered that moment, when Vetinari had called out so deliciously, gasping under his hands, seeming to enjoy himself very much…

He pushed the images away every time, but they kept coming back. They elicited an involuntary reaction of his private parts, and that was the worst thing of all.

Vetinari had never wanted to do this, had tried to stop him. These memories Vimes had were stolen. He had no right to these recollections of Vetinari in those incredibly vulnerable moments, which Vetinari had never wanted to show him. Which Vimes had just _taken_.

He got home in the small hours, and only because Colon, Nobby, and Cheery had banded together to tell him to rest, and that they had everything under control. Bloody traitors.

He knew he couldn’t possibly sleep.

Sybil found him pacing the halls.

“Oh dear, did I wake you?” he asked, feeling vaguely guilty for not coming to bed.

“No, no, I just need to keep an eye on the young ones - they are at that age where they get lots of colic and indigestion, and, well… You know how it is.” She took his hand. “Sam, are you alright? They told me you had been kidnapped by magic, but managed to get away! Are you going to arrest someone important?”

She saw his face and chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised, dear. People do tell me things, you know.”

Sam looked away. “It wasn’t just me. Vetinari was kidnapped, too.”

“Oh, that takes some nerve. Is Havelock alright?”

“I… don’t know. I haven’t seen him since yesterday, when we escaped. Carrot was at the palace to make a report, and he says he’s working in the Oblong Office, as usual, but…” he faltered.

Sybil gently steered him to the sofa.

“What’s wrong, dear? Why did you send Captain Carrot to make a report instead of going yourself?”

“Vetinari… I… We…” he took a deep breath and talked quickly, before he could lose his resolve. “I had sex with him. But, it was, we weren’t, I mean-“

He tried out several ways to explain, but kept interrupting himself and starting a new attempt. After a few seconds of unintelligible stammering, Sybil hugged him tightly, effectively silencing him.

“Oh, my dear Sam, you really don’t need to be so miserable about it. It is quite alright. Though, of course, I will happily let you explain when you feel more coherent about it. I would love to hear how this came to pass after all this time!” She let go of him. “You should invite Havelock for dinner sometime so we can all have a talk, you know, I am sure we could find an arrangement that suits everyone. I have known Havelock for a long time and I’d be happy to-“

“No, no, not like that! It was-…” her words caught up with him and he paused, confused. “Wait, you think that we… and… and even so… you’re ok with…?”

“But of course I am, Sam, don’t be silly.” She gave him a fond look. “I know you love me, and I love you. Havelock and I have been friends for a long time. I want you both to be happy, and I would be happy to welcome Havelock into the family. Gods know he must get lonely, he works too much.”

“Oh. Uum.” He looked at Sybil and wondered, not for the first time, what he could possibly have done to deserve his wife. Her support and understanding seemed to be limitless, even if she had completely misunderstood the situation.

“You… Wow. But that wasn’t what I was trying to say. You see, …”  
He told her about the dark room, the magic runes, and the sudden inescapable urge to kiss the Patrician.

He had kissed him, without being stabbed. That had been surprising.

He also told her about the safehouse. The way he- that Vetinari had said they shouldn’t, had pushed him away, and he-

He was disgusted with himself. The fact that he still got flashbacks to what had happened after didn’t make it better, especially since his body’s reaction was not one of disgust. He had bloody _enjoyed_ it, and that wasn’t right, because Vetinari… Vetinari had tried to stop him…

Sybil was holding his hand.

“Oh, Sam. I’m so sorry.” She patted his hand soothingly. “It wasn’t your fault. It really wasn’t. I’m sure Havelock understands…”

“That’s what I’m bloody worried about.” Sam struggled to control his voice. “I mean, I’m alive, so I guess that means he does understand. But, dear, how does that make any of this situation any better for him? Did he even ever, before, you know… in his life? Oh, gods…” he covered his eyes with his hand. “Besides, it was me who activated those _damn_ runes in the first place!”

He must have looked very distressed, because Sybil wordlessly took him into her arms.

After a minute of gentle hugging, she let go again. “But, Sam… are you alright? You were also under a spell, so you also didn’t really get a choice with this. How are you feeling about that?”

“I…” he sighed. He hated having to say it, he hated thinking it. But he couldn’t lie to Sybil, and to what end, anyway?

“Honestly, it was… blast it, it was _good_! Vetinari is…” he struggled for words. “Infuriating.”

He was always so controlled, and then he was not, and…

“And hot. And, and I have no right to think that! He never wanted me to see him like that , he would never willingly get that… intimate!”

Sybil smiled slightly. “Oh, what a night that must have been.” The smile faded, and her voice grew serious. “Dear, it really sounds like you should have an open conversation with him about what happened. Talking it out would be good for _both_ of you.”

“I can’t go to him now! Not if he doesn’t send for me. It’s understandable if he just _really_ doesn’t want to have to see me for a while.”

“You can’t avoid him forever, you know.”

“I can if he does.”

Sybil sighed.

 

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

 

Days passed. Apparently, the kidnappers had been using what Ponder Stibbons called “VPM” – Veiled Practice of Magic. This made it almost impossible to pinpoint the origin of the teleportation spell. HEX, the university’s thinking engine, was currently trying to track down the caster. The technical details were completely lost on Vimes.

No messenger had come to inform him that he had an appointment with the Patrician. Vimes sent others to deliver reports to the palace. He knew they were speculating why he wasn’t doing the reports himself anymore. So far, no one had dared to ask him.

He spent his days doing paperwork, following _clues_ connected to the kidnapping, and on patrol. He spent his nights on patrol, too.

The scratches on his back were healing. Whenever he leaned against something or moved so that he felt them, he had the flash of an image in his mind, Vetinari, gasping, moaning under his hands…  
When he tried to sleep, the images were more than just flashes.

He tried to forget. He tried to keep busy.

The days turned into weeks.

 

One day, seemingly like any other, Vimes entered his office, as he always did.

He wasn’t actively paying attention, but his subconscious never stopped being a suspicious bastard and _there was someone in the room_.

His hand was halfway to his sword before he recognized Vetinari.

The Patrician stepped out of the background he had somehow managed to occupy, his hands raised slightly, obviously striving to look as nonthreatening as possible. His eyes flicked to the hilt of Vimes’s sword. Vimes hastily remembered to remove his hand which had still been hovering on its interrupted way to the hilt.

Vetinari took a deep breath. “Commander Vimes-“ he stopped.  
Vimes was very worried now. Vetinari _always_ knew what to say!

“Sir?” he said uncertainly.

He wanted to tell him how deeply sorry he was. That what he’d done had been wrong, that he would never, gods, never to someone who said ‘no’, that he’d do anything to make it better, if he could make it right! – but this could never be righted. This was something you had to live with. Forever.  
He didn’t know how to express any of this. So instead, he settled for an uncertain ‘Sir?’

Vetinari considered him for a long few seconds, apparently collecting his thoughts.

“Commander, this city relies on us to work together. This is why I am here.”  
Just for a moment, an expression of pain flickered across the Patrician’s usually so inscrutable visage. “I do not fault you for… not wanting to talk to me. In fact, I am somewhat surprised that you have not yet started shouting at me or…” his eyes flicked to the sword once more.  
“No kind of apology could ever even begin to-“

Vimes was rather confused by some of what Vetinari was saying, but he felt he had to cut in here.

“I know. I agree! No apology could ever be enough. But, I still want you to know the, I really, I really _am_ sorry. Gods, I am.”

Vetinari looked perplexed, a rare occurrence.

“And why… for what possible reason… Do tell me Commander, what are you sorry _for_?”

Vetinari’s confusion seemed to be contagious. Vimes had no idea what that question was supposed to imply. “I… you _know_ what… That is to say. In that cellar, what happened, I, I shouldn’t have…” Once again, an image flickered across his mind.

“Vimes, you… you do realise, do you not, that you were under a powerful spell at the time? I should have stopped things before they went further, and I am sincerely sorry for what happened due to my weakness.”

“Your _weakness_? You pushed me away! You said no! How much more could you have tried to stop? You were resisting just fine! And my answer to that was to forcefully carry you to the bed and… and…” How could Vetinari possibly blame himself for this?!

“I am not as defenceless as you seem to think, Commander. It is well within my abilities to incapacitate someone without harming them, which is exactly what I should have done, seeing as I was fully aware that you were not yourself. I deeply regret that my strength of will proved inadequate to prevent things from going too far.

“Now listen, this isn’t on you! You’re human too, even if you like to pretend that you’re not. That you could resist that thing as long as you did is ridiculous enough! I couldn’t even fight that spell in the first place, much less when we were, well... you know… touching. And yet you could! And I took that option away from you when I ‘distracted’ you, and didn’t let you get away!”

Vetinari’s voice had taken on an almost soothing tone, which was strange to hear. Usually, the Patrician kept his voice as level and impassive as his face.  
“This is in no way your fault, Vimes. You could not have acted in any other manner. What happened, it was the magic, it _was not you_.”

Vimes felt a disconcerting mixture of guilt and anger, both directed at the tall figure in front of him. Why did he insist on blaming himself, when every piece of evidence pointed in the opposite direction?  
“You were just as much under a spell! And besides, even if that were an excuse for everything I did, well, _that doesn’t make it any better what I did to you, does it_?” He angrily blurted out that last part, more than he had meant to say, and yet, the truth. He clenched his fists and stared at his feet.

The Patrician was silent for a long time.

Vimes stubbornly kept looking at his boots. They could use a good cleaning, he noted absently.

Finally, Vetinari drew a deep breath, as though having reached a decision. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

“Vimes, I do not want you to beat yourself up over this. There is something… I did not mean to tell you this, mostly because there was no reason for you to know, but obviously, it is the only way you will stop finding ways of blaming yourself for my faults.”

He sounded somehow detached, as if talking about someone else. Vimes couldn’t help looking up.

“Rest assured, you did not do anything _to_ me, nothing I would object to in any case. Because I… Well. I would never have said ‘no’ had we both been sober.”

Vimes frowned, confused as his mind was trying to process the meaning of those words. Vetinari wasn’t looking at him.

“I have wanted this. I might have been able to resist, had I not wanted this. I took advantage of the situation, though I tried not to.

You have, at multiple times, expressed your personal dislike of me. I was perfectly aware that your actions that night were due to a spell, and that you had no say in the matter, and yet, try as I might, I could not resist in that moment, because I _wanted_ it.”

Vimes was stunned. Vetinari, apparently having said everything he had come to say, was standing there, motionless.

What was he saying? That… that Vimes hadn’t forced himself on him?  
Sam felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Part of his mind told him that there were other things, but just now, Vimes was almost shaking from the realisation that he was not part of Vetinari’s nightmares, that he had not taken away the agency and dignity of a man who had been under a spell.

He had not caused Vetinari distress.

Because Vetinari had… He had not said no for his own sake?

That was why he had not gotten a summons from him! Vetinari had thought… He’d thought… Along similar lines as Vimes, hadn’t he?  
And he had actually felt distraught about it. It was strange, thinking about the Patrician _caring_ in that manner.

He realised that Vetinari still hadn’t moved. Hesitantly, he took a step forward.

The Patrician took a calculated step back, as though expecting Vimes to attack him.  
He was still maintaining his non-threatening posture.

He shot the Patrician a Look, willing him to stand still, and covered the distance between them. Vetinari was like a statue as Vimes slowly extended an arm, hesitating with his hand an inch from the Patrician’s face. Vetinari’s eyes were fixed on him, as though trying to work out a puzzling mystery. He looked somehow… yearning. And, maybe, just a little hopeful.

Sam was just about to lose his nerve when Vetinari finally did move, leaning into his hand so Vimes was cupping his cheek.  
Emboldened, Vimes leaned up and softly touched Vetinari’s lips with his. He could feel Vetinari’s hand covering his own, holding it on Vetinari’s cheek.

Sam stepped away after a few seconds, and found himself once again fixed by that scrutinising, puzzled gaze.

“How fascinating,” he said quietly. “It is not easy to surprise me, Commander.”

“I’m bloody flattered,” Sam said, secretly feeling oddly pleased.

“Are you sure you are… alright, Vimes? After all, you were not quite yourself, when…”

Sam felt oddly touched that the Vetinari seemed to be so genuinely concerned, about _him_. He tried to hide that feeling as best he could. “Why, I didn’t know you _had_ feelings, you sentimental bastard.”  
However, since he knew how it felt to worry so badly to have hurt someone in this way, he added, “I’m fine. I was mainly worried about you, honestly. I mean, I remember I wasn’t exactly considerate, right, I kinda really didn’t leave you much choice…”

“That,” Vetinari said empathetically, “was _not_ a problem.”

Vimes remembered the way Vetinari had felt under his hands, and this time, there were no waves of guilt following the image.  
“Yes, it was… quite, uhh, yes, wasn’t it…”

The Patrician smiled subtly, then pulled Vimes into another kiss, less chaste than the one before. Vetinari’s lips on his felt righter than he could ever have imagined. Vetinari’s tongue was doing delightful things to him.

When they let go of each other to catch their breath, there was colour in Vetinari’s cheeks and he seemed ever so slightly dishevelled. Vimes found it suited him.

“Do you want to…” he suddenly felt irrationally bashful. “You know, without any stupid magic influence?”

Vetinari raised an eyebrow. “You do not think that Lady Sybil would mind?”

“Oh, I think she’d understand if we don’t invite her for the first time. Although, I’m sure she’d be happy to join, if you want.”

The expression on Vetinari’s face almost made him laugh out loud. He managed to suppress it, but only just. He felt somehow elated, and ridiculously happy.

“Come on, let’s just go to Scoone Avenue for now. The three of us should talk anyway, and I could really do with some tea right now, couldn’t you?”

 

 

 

 

Footnotes:

[8] Which was very neutral indeed, even now

[9] They both knew he hadn’t


End file.
